As you were stilling down the pine avenues
You caught a despaired twinkle in your eye
That had a semblance of doubt and perplexity,
When your eyes meet the sky, your mind twisted
Downward to the center of tremendous opportunity
In the midst of an overcoming shadowy Figure,
Then as a crimson Passer-by noticed everything
Of the confrontation between clauses of the sharp
Suitor and of a shark swingling, creeping, dwindling
By the the Ocean of your innermost hell,
There in front of a café where you used to meet her
Your hands caress the pavement that you judge
Too frail like the sounds of whisking by, controled,
Scrowled by the scowl of your inner feelings,
You stump your feet then High Heavens
Everything around you turns to Yellow deciphering :
The Sun has shined by the Rivulet of demise!
I am found before the Lord and God
filthy and worn
downtrodden hopeless and despaired
I come in sorry yet in full repentance
I am I am a son of the Father and His grace is well spent
7/25/22
written word James Edward Lee Sr. 2022
Hope
desire reasonable
promises anticipate confident
dejection discord
fear feeds anxiety
Despair
5/8/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2022©
And poverty has thus filled his griddle with dust,
His cup covered in rust
His strength, long waned to wail and cry
Now, all he awaits is to die
nothing is left to say,
the wandering cloud was bleeding
for white moon,
the elements, the purity, the ligaments
are fake, joints are festering
with fever on burntout resins ;
the name floats in millions of veins,
tell me the fault line of tremors,
a mass burial was on way,
the surge of deadly intent
in this night of black spiders
in eternal pursuit of murder, unpalming
thousand hurts, poppies kissing the eyes
of ravaged shutters, locks broken
and ivory taken away
SATISH VERMA
nothing is left to say,
the wandering cloud was bleeding
for white moon,
the elements, the purity, the ligaments
are fake, joints are festering
with fever on burntout resins ;
the name floats in millions of veins,
tell me the fault line of tremors,
a mass burial was on way,
the surge of deadly intent
in this night of black spiders
in eternal pursuit of murder, unpalming
thousand hurts, poppies kissing the eyes
of ravaged shutters, locks broken
and ivory taken away
SATISH VERMA
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.